The nights in winter are arguably longer. The dawns give in way too fast, and the only thing that proves to be fruitfully snugly is the layers of fabric within which one can sneak in until the sun breaks out on a snowy morning. Neither reprimanded nor admonished, what’s new, they ask. How does one even attempt explaining the thin line stretching between logic and the fetish of being treated to breakfast in bed to a society that carries with it a thick brown envelope stacked with cynical and two-phased perceptions? To a fraternity that resides in a presidential web of judgements and believes in a sustenance that is defined by an unexciting routine, it is similar to walking them the difference between apples and oranges. It’s as good as double-dating and getting oneself invited over for breakfast. Their response to a heavy thundershower or a falling comet is probably likely to be an oh-I-think-we-can-cancel-today’s-plans or oh-I-thought-that-was-an-unusually-bright-star-there-last-night.
A daily regimen has a tendency to stereotype its followers into innumerable tags. Tags the populace is entitled to shunting between despite the respite. Tags that keep shifting anyway in mere hours, sometimes within minutes, in the wake of those ever-reorienting roles. A parent to a cook. A sibling to a supervisor. An at-the-moment counsellor turns into a fitness freak a minute later. A sports buff becomes a seasoned vacationer when they are found to be holidaying in the Bahamas the next day. It is of profound irony the way this black hole works, despite the vicious cycle it proves to be. Wishes and desires are nothing more than derivatives that are birthed out of the ‘busyness’ quotient. Irrespective, the simple motto of ‘live and let live’ can be quite a challenging task at hand, for there always exists a scope for improvement. Of meaningless criticisms. Of irrelevant admonitions. Of disapproving expressions. Of pointier-than-a-sword rebuffs. With a stroke of rebuking uppercuts.
Matters and journeys that insist fiercely of independence are intertwined in stances of judgement and more often than not, unwelcoming corrections. The higher a devil’s ivy creeps up the wall, the more corrective its course of action is manipulated to. An expression of disapproval is all it takes to quash a wishful instinct. A shake of the head could land in retracing a step to taking that leap of faith. A disagreed opinion may be the cause of revoking one’s qualms about the one word that bases the concept of evolution today – try.
So, what’s unhygienic-sounding about having that morning coffee without brushing the teeth? What’s unorthodox about laughing your heart out in public (or, for that matter, after getting sloshed)? What’s unappealing about choosing a partner despite the labels they are forced with at birth? What’s unexciting about topping a mango ice cream with whole cashew nuts? What’s reserving about getting body art? What’s against sexual orientations or kinky fetishes in bed? It is as much as a choice of that larva weaving its cocoon, to that of adults skimming through television channels on the day they must ideally be heading to polling booths. It is as much as the preference of that just-an-inch-above hair trim to preserving that vintage Bajaj Caliber by taking it to the service centre every quarter. It is only a matter of perception and difference of opinions. Sadly, the perpetrator of such notions also happens to be the source of all the judgement!
Sigh. It may be a while, while we as a race, progress to let go of that scandalous affair between the ant and the elephant. Until then, getting cozy on wintery mornings? As Uncle Scrooge in A Christmas Carol rightly points out, “Bah! Humbug!”